


Seducing Your Teacher 101

by sleepyboard



Category: None - Fandom
Genre: Blow Jobs, Dream Sex, Fantasizing, Forbidden Love, High School, Implied/Referenced Cheating, Inspired by Real Events, M/M, Sexual Fantasy, Slow Burn, Teacher-Student Relationship, Wet Dream
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-10
Updated: 2018-08-09
Packaged: 2018-09-16 02:24:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 4
Words: 1,938
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9269495
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sleepyboard/pseuds/sleepyboard
Summary: Michael, a ceramics teacher, finds interest in his job. He's never unfocused and always does his job for what's best for all his students. That is, until Abraham comes along. Ever since he's had that student, things haven't been the same. Is Abraham really strange, or is Michael the one at fault?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> this is a trainwreck but i’m still gonna write it. i started writing this two years ago but i decided to change it up and bring it back. if mr. hall sees this i’m a dead man.

Early morning, the sun rising, and I spill coffee all over my desk. Great start, Michael.

I quickly run to the sink closest to me and grab the loose roll of paper towels, thank God, and rip some off to wipe down the surface.

I didn’t notice, but a student walked in my class rom. There he was, oh no, with his determined-scared expression, holding a wad of napkins.

“Here, I’ll get more paper towels.” he said, smiling so slightly.

“O-Okay.” Shit, did I stutter? Fuck, fuck, fuck… okay.

The bastard skip-sprinted to the sinks and reached to pull the handle on the inconvenient paper towel dispenser. The poor kid’s shirt rid up his torso and his slightly-tanned stomach and side were exposed to me.

I nearly knocked my coffee over a second time.

Fuck, dude, Michael, come on… he’s a student. He’s just trying to help you clean up your mess.

Honestly, I can’t help myself. This student was Abraham Bradley, a senior student in my sculpture class. He’ the shy, quiet, and very adorable type.

He’s pretty attractive. I bet he has a really cute girlfriend.

Abraham actually took my beginning ceramics class the first semester of his senior year. He came in about two months after school started, making me think he was a new student.

Turns out he actually just left his theater tech class. That makes a lot of sense, considering he looks like he’s filled to the brim with anxiety and stress. The poor thing.

I wasn’t paying attention, clearly, and zoned off. I snapped back to attention when Abraham said, in his clearest, most sweet voice…

“Mr. Hall?”

God, I’m a mess.

“Y-Yeah! Thank you, Abraham.”

I gently took the paper towels from him, wiping down my desk and making sure my laptop, which was provided by the school, did _not_ get wet.

I wouldn’t have expected him, of all people, to come to my rescue. He never seemed the one to start a conversation, let alone walk into my classroom with the intent of doing so.

“Mr. Hall, I wanted to a-ask you a question.”

It may have been my imagination trying to make him cuter, but I swear he stammered a bit.

“Shoot. I’ve got all day- actually until 7:30.”

Abraham chuckled sheepishly, his pale green eyes meeting mine for a brief moment. The poor kid couldn’t make eye contact with me. He looked to the floor.

“Well… you passed me last year- err, last semester. I know I didn’t do anything, so why did I get an A?”

Aw, damn. I forgot all about that. The truth is, I felt guilty. He never was on his phone, he was always working on stuff for this class which was never turned in. The kid looked nervous every moment he was in there, and when the bell rang he bailed.

“I didn’t know I passed you.”

Why do I even try to lie? He probably knows it was a pity-pass. I’m not even allowed to do that… what the hell is wrong with me?

“Oh… well…”

He stopped. What could his idea have been? Keep him on an F and fail the class he’s in currently?

“Look, Abe, it’s okay… uh. It was my mistake, you don’t have to take responsibility.”

His eyes widened a bit, suddenly having eye contact with me. Green to blue. I heard a thunder clap and felt the lightning strike through me. I turned around, not wanting to face him.

Something about him is strange. He’s too perfect… there has to be something else. I don’t know what to do… I don’t know how to feel.

“…Abe?”

Oh, dammit. I didn’t notice I called him that. I shouldn’t give nicknames by habit.

“Y-yeah, sorry. I didn’t mean-“

“No, it’s alright.”

It was awkward, him standing there. I almost wanted to sit down, slide my computer in front of me and hope he’ll leave. But I… I almost want him here.

“Thank you”

Dammit, this kid.

“You don’t need to thank me, it was my problem.”

Just pray he won’t tell any staff about this, or I’m dead. Knowing him so far, I doubt he would rat me out, but you never know.

He hesitantly walked towards the door, reaching for the door knob, and smiling at the floor one last time before he left.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Abraham struggles with realizing that he has no hope.

The door closes and our eyes meet. His lips trace lightly over mine as he eyes my body.

He’s so strong, so clever and kind. Such a mesmerizing voice and such beautiful blue eyes. I want him. I want him so bad.

He’s my teacher. Every piece of me is saying this is wrong. I want him so bad. I need him.

He grabs my arm gently and pulls me. Eyes locked. Lips only inches away. Please.

He kisses me, so softly, and I close my eyes. I love this. I’ve wanted this. Forever, please.

He pushes me back a bit and I open my eyes again. He’s smiling at me with a kind expression. I love this.

“Down.”

I obey his command. I’m on my knees, the dusty floor against my light blue jeans. This is what I wanted.

“Please.”

I didn’t notice my plea, but it was worth it. He gets his pants down, enough for me.

Oh my god, this is amazing. I can’t believe this. I’m… thrilled.

 

My body jolts as I awake from my bed, sweating and panting like I’ve run a marathon. My pj bottoms strain and stick, and now I understand.

Everything was a dream. Of course it was.

I sit up and throw my legs over my bed. Rubbing my face, I sigh. What am I doing to myself? This is wrong. It’s not normal.

I’m not normal.

Once I get up and get to the bathroom, I wash my face with cold water. Why? Ugh.

I change my bottoms and throw the other ones in the laundry basket. Maybe I can just go back to sleep? I don’t want to dream again. I don’t want to think again, either. Maybe I can just go into auto-pilot forever.

Opening my laptop, I get to a video with 10 hours long of quiet music and rain. Once I lay down, I pull it up to my face, beside my pillow.

Stop thinking. Stop thinking.

Stop thinking about his voice. Stop thinking about his touch, his smile. The way he was so gentle, so caring.

Him. Stop thinking about him.

Why do I even try? I have no hope. He’s married, straight, and way older than me. It’s impossible. I’m just a kid. It won’t happen.

Nothing will happen. I should just leave the class. I’m not gonna pass anyways, he probably doesn’t want me there. I’ll get my schedule hanged and I won’t have to see him ever again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> heres the music:  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jX6kn9_U8qk
> 
> tbh i didnt even listen to it but the longest one seemed appropriate.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Michael can’t focus, and shames himself for his thoughts.

My classes went by quickly, my mind somewhere else. A student asked me if I was _doing alright_. Some higher power must be playing a cruel joke on me.

Abraham is in my 5th hour class, and when the first student for that class walks in, I realized I’ll have to see him again.

Why does this shake me? Why does his look make my stomach churn with something similar to butterflies and glee? Why do my hands shake when he smiles? Why is my heart racing?

He walks in, and when he walks by, I look at him. Who can blame me? He has light brown hair, almost unrealistically light brown. It’s short and wavy, and hides his eyes sometimes. 

He has the most gorgeous eyes and pale skin. His girlfriend must be proud…

“Okay, so I decided we’re going to make animals instead of people. It’s easier to decide on an animal rather than a person.”

Abraham’s eyes lowered and he started to doodle out a cat. He loved to draw animals, I noticed. Something that may have subconsciously made me change my decision.

I’m such a weirdo… watching a kid like that. I mean, he’s just a student to me… but there’s something about him.

“So do you guys want animal masks or small animal chibis?”

Silence. This class wasn’t really vocal, but that was okay. I’m used to this, at this point. Maybe I could tell what Abraham was saying with just his expression.

I look at him, a terrible mistake, and he catches my eye. He smiles a bit then puts his head back down to his notebook.

Fuck, god. I love his smile.

“Okay, so, I’ll let you decide. You can either make an animal mask or a small animal chibi. Whatever you decide, but it has to be an animal.”

The class mumbled in agreement, looking up at me. All except…

Maybe there’s… something wrong with him? Maybe he’s having trouble at home. He looks sad most of the time.

I went to the wheel to get my mind off of it. He’s alright, surely.

Starting with some clay, I slowly create an uneven pot. I sighed. I’ll get myself out of this hole, I always do.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After dropping from his teacher-crush’s class, Abraham finds himself struggling with his grades. And with his fantasies.

Heated, smashing of lips. Callused hands gripping my arm and hip. I taste the crook of his neck, rutting against him—

Light strains my eyes, and I’m awake in my classroom. My new 5th hour. Not his class. I almost want to lay my head back down before Mr. Schmidt sits across from me. Gotta paint, right. Okay. 

We’re doing a self portrait in watercolor, which isn’t that hard for me, honestly. I’ve been painting since I was a freshman. My mind whirls with fading fantasies as I continue to paint. 

Mr. Schmidt starts helping a student next to him, glancing at me every once in a while. I’m starting to get nervous, like he’s reading my thoughts. Now I have a headache. I’ll try to listen to music in my mind. 

I play the tune of “Take Me Somewhere Nice” by Sky Sailing, shaking my foot to the music in my mind. If Mr. Schmidt was a mind reader—

“Abe, can I talk to you outside?”

The nickname caught on, somehow. Maybe he heard the private conversation between Mr. Hall and I playing through my mind. 

Without a word, I scoot my chair out and go outside the door to wait. Trying to not glance at Mr. Hall’s room, or even in that direction, is harder than I thought it would be. Why is he stuck in my mind?

My new painting teacher steps outside a minute later, closing the door fully, before looking at me. 

“So... you dropped from Mr. Hall’s class?”

Great. He is a mind reader. 

“Yeah.”

“Why’s that?”

Because I’m in love with the teacher. I can’t get him out of my mind. 

“Well... I’m not good at ceramics.”

“I saw you had an A last semester.”

My chest feels tight. My head hurts. I can’t do this. 

“I’m not interested in ceramics.” Just the teacher. 

“Well, then. I’m glad you joined my class, but you need to get your head in the game, kiddo.”

Mr. Hall walks out of his room, and pauses at his door. He’s looking at me. I look back at him, and my body is on fire. 

“Abraham. Abraham!”

Mr. Schmidt puts his hand on my shoulder, and I jump. Keep it cool, Abraham. Mr. Hall is working. 

“Yeah... sorry...” I mumble, fidgeting where I stand. Mr. Hall starts walking to the kiln, not looking in my direction. 

Mr. Schmidt pats my back and walks back into the class after telling me to come back in when I’m ready.

**Author's Note:**

> my deepest apologies for whoever read this.


End file.
